Where Jason Got His Bad Habits
by Sparkly Palm Tree
Summary: Or: Dick has contracted the common disease of 'Teenage Rebellion' (probably from Roy). Meanwhile, Jason seems to have caught the 'hero worship' bug. AUish with Sassy!Dick and Impressionable!Jason becoming brothers. T for language
1. Chapter 1

**Ok, so I'm of the belief that when Jason was a Robin and Dick was off becoming Nightwing, Dick was a Total BAMF but sweet big brother. Like Dean from Supernatural. Cuz he was a moody teenager and everything comic wise I've read with dick as a baby has him as this adorable sassy kid brat thing. Not to mention he was used to being the youngest, and his big brother figures had been Boston Brand and Roy Harper. Who are kind of. . . Unconventional. But then everyone makes him out to be such a positive happy big brother figure for young Jason. . . So I guess this is an au?**

 **Regardless, I don't own it.**

 **Ooh, also, I have the headcanon that Jason calls Tim and Damian replacement and brat cuz Dick called him that.**

" _Ahh_! What the hell is that? A gremlin?"

Not exactly what Jason had been expecting when he walked into the Batcave. He'd been expecting a grumpy 'suit up' from a sulking Bruce or maybe Alfred with a tray loaded with sandwiches.

But his four months of training to 'expect-the-unexpected' had totally failed him. A young teenage boy, maybe fourteen or fifteen, tops, was sitting on the console of the Batcomputer. _Nobody_ did that. Not even Jason. He was a total Pretty-Boy, he was even wearing a sweater. A _sweater_. Okay, he did have a leather jacket over it, which made it a little better. But not much.

He would have looked like skin and bones to the untrained eye, but Jason's eye had almost a half a year in experience. He was really muscular, but lithe (thank you Alfred's vocabulary tutoring) under the baggy sweater. The older boy had black hair and darkish skin, but bright blue eyes.

The real shocker was the fondness in Bruce's response. " _No_ , Dick, he's an eleven year old. And technically your younger brother."

'Dick' (ok, honestly he felt a little sorry for the guy now) squinted at him. "Whatever," he said. "Just nobody feed it after midnight."

Jason scoffed. Who did this punk think he was? They were Batman and Robin, he couldn't talk to them this way!

But then the rest of the Bruce's words seemed to sink in. "Wait," Dick's eyes went as huge as the Batmobile's - very nice, thank you very much - hubcaps. "Younger _brother_? Did you forget to use protection? Oh, that is _rich_! Wait until I tell Roy!" He burst out laughing, immune to Bruce's potent glare.

"I'm Jason Todd. _You_ might know me better as Robin."

Dick stopped laughing. His eyes even got a little sad and faraway, before he grinned and hopped down from the console. He walked over and knelt in front of Jason, extending a hand.

"And I'm Dick Grayson. _You_ might know me better as Nightwing, _replacement_."

Holy. . . This was Dick Grayson. This was Dick Grayson! The first Robin! Nightwing! He was like a god! Jason felt his eyes widen to the size of the Batmobiles hubcaps. He patted Dick's face, checking to see if it was real. Totally authentic. "Bruce," he whispered. "This is Dick Grayson."

He pointed up at the grinning older boy. Bruce lifted an eyebrow. "Yes."

Jason turned his head slowly towards the man. "Bruce," he said a little more urgently. "This is _Dick_ _Grayson_. The _first_ _Robin_. The _Nightwing_."

"And," Bruce added, smirking. Wait, why was he smirking? He _never_ smirked. He never even came _close_ to smirking. "Most importantly, your baby sitter."

"What?" Dick choked. "You said you wanted to consult me on a case- no, I should have known! World's Greatest Detective over here! You'd never need help on a case!"

"Alfred's out of town, I have to track down the Joker in DC, which will take several day, _at least_ , and Jason is injured. Besides, if someone doesn't keep watch, he'll go out anyway."

Dick gaped at him. "I can't-" he sighed, looking totally exasperated. "I'm supposed to be the leader of the Titans. I can't just drop everything to babysit." He turned to Jason. "No offense, kid."

"None taken!" Jason said too eagerly. No! That sounded really lame. He lowered his voice. "I mean, none taken."

Dick smirked at him, before looking at Bruce again. "I dumped everything on Donna for the weekend."

 _What_. He grabbed Dick's hand, and his attention. "You're staying the whole weekend?!"

The older boy - legend, really - sighed again. He ran his fingers through his short hair, closing his eyes. Jason was totally going to get his hair cut like that next time. " _Apparently_."

"Cool-" Jason was cut off by tires skidding off. They both whipped around.

"Did he just-" Dick spluttered. "He lef- whatever. C'mon brat."

* * *

"Sooo. . ."

"Sooo. . . " Jason parroted, not taking his eyes off of Dick. He was right there! He was pretty sure his mind would have exploded if it hadn't already five minutes ago.

The teenager made a go on gesture.

Jason looked around, shrugging.

"What d'ya want to do?" Dick asked finally.

Jason shrugged again.

"Right," Dick sighed. "Well, if I remember correctly from my _many_ years in this house, junk food, alcohol, R movies, explicit content of any kind, pranking, and altogether fun, are forbidden. Does that sound right?"

He nodded vigorously. Should he be calling him Mr. Grayson? But then, he was only three or four years older than him. . .

"And, the enforcers of those rules are out of town. _And_ gave us no specific guidelines to adhere to, yes?"

Another nod. He was pretty sure he understood most of that.

"Then I propose that we have the most extreme weekend that two bros can possibly have in a huge mansion and billions of dollars!"

Bros. Brothers. He had a brother. A brother that was _the_ Dick Grayson. **Awesome** was _an understatement._ He smiled. Dick looked up from his speech, and saw his smile. He grinned wickedly, eyes flashing.

"We're going to get along just fine, kid," he slung an arm around his shoulders. " _Just_ _fine_."

* * *

That weekend was the best Jason could ever remember having. They stayed up all night eating mounds of candy, junk food, pizza, anything. They watched raunchy comedies and horror flicks until 5'am both nights. His new brother taught him about pop culture until he thought his head would explode. He'd picked up plenty of terms. from on the streets, but never the meaning of them. Dick let him drive Bruce's favorite cars. They had contests and races and prepared pranks for their legal guardian. The only time Jason remembered stopping smiling was during the horror movies, and that was only to scream.

But most importantly, Dick had exposed him to the wonders of motorcycles and leather.

On Sunday evening, they got word that Bruce would be back, and Jason had to ask the question that had been eating at him before he lost his chance.

He was sitting on Dick's bed, watching the older boy pack. "Dick. . . " he said hesitantly.

"Yeah, brat?"

"Why'd you give up being Robin?"

Dick stopped shoving clothes into his black duffel bag to look solemnly at Jason.

"I didn't. Bruce fired me. I got shot by the Joker and I . . . almost died. He said it wasn't safe for me anymore. But it never had been. We fought. . . Hell, we still do. I ran away, started the Titans."

"Is that why he won't let me near Joker?" Jason asked quietly.

Dick didn't answer. He shouldered the pack and pushed the baseball cap that had been perched on his head onto Jason's. He kept silent as he slid down the shining banister. By the time Dick got to the door, he seemed to have found an answer.

Nightwing stared hard at Jason, the icy blue of his eyes unsettling him.

"The Joker ruined my career as Robin. Don't let him ruin yours too."


	2. Chapter 2

omg I had so many ideas for this 'verse why am I only updating now

so without further adieu (or is it ado?), here are some shorts (becuase I had too many ideas to focus on just one) for WJGHBH.

* * *

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Jason shot up.

He _definitely_ wasn't in Wayne Manor anymore. He was lying on a big blue bed, that really didn't look slept in all that often. The room had newspaper clippings tacked onto the wall, but other then that, was insanely clean. The lights were ridiculously bright, but something was blocking them.

Dick leaned over him, eyebrows raised.

"Err-" Jason bit his cheek, not really sure how to explain about the reason he was in Titans Tower. "Hi?"

" _Hi_ ," Dick sighed, sounding specifically _un_ -Dick-like. No sarcasm, no joke, not even a smile. He seemed. . .tired. Which was _totally_ ridiculous, because _Nightwing_ didn't get tired.

The older boy moved out of the way, becoming less of a silhouette and more of a person, letting Jason get a good look at him. His normally - totally wicked - spiked hair was flat on his head. His blue eyes looked bloodshot and droopy, with almost the darkest rings Jason had ever seen around them. _Almost_ , because he saw Bruce without coffee every morning, and that wasn't pretty.

"So," Jason began awkwardly.

Dick's lips twitched upwards, and Jason took some pride in the fact that he'd made _Richard_ _Grayson_ smile. Not that it was probably a hard thing to do, he guessed, but it was still epic that _he'd_ done it. "Come here often?"

Jason blushed. "Well-uh-"

"What's up?" Dick sighed again, flopping on top of him. "Wait, _no_ , let me guess. You need advice-slash-are having a premature midlife crisis. Girl trouble?"

Jason tried to speak through Dick's head. "Ngh."

"Taking that as a _no_. Let's see, did you crash the Bat-Mobile?"

He shook his head.

"Break the chandelier? Or one of Alfie's favorite vases?"

"No," Jason said, wriggling his head out from under Dick's.

Dick clambered off of him, sitting across from him, but leaning against the pillows. "Fight with Bruce?"

Jason nodded slowly. If anyone knew about that, it had to be Dick. He'd been in _tons_ of fights with Bruce. But he didn't really want to think about it, at least not then. "Bada-bing, bada-boom. First try!" Dick said weakly. In fact, all the older boy's words had seemed kind of wooden, without any real power behind them, but theses ones had seemed a lot gentler than usual. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not. . . Not right now. But maybe sometime tomorrow?"

"Sure. Tell me in the. . ." he leaned lazily over to the dresser to see the clock. elbows jabbing Jason's chest. "Early afternoon. Or better yet, _late_ afternoon."

Dick sunk back under the covers, gesturing for him to do the same. As soon as he had, the blanket got yanked over their heads. Dick smiled tiredly at him. "You came to the right place, little bro. Bruce doesn't come anywhere _near_ me or the Titans.

Jason smiled back. "Hey, Dick? Thank you."

"Anytime. Replacement, anytime," the older boy closed his eyes, wiggling even lower into their cocoon. "I can even introduce you to the Titans, Roy and Kory will _love_ you. So will Donna and-" Dick yawned. "You'll see. Just keep being your bad-ass self."

He made himself gasp. "Don't let Alfred hear you say that!"

"Benefit to living away from home, little bro, you get to do what you _want_ ," the Titan mumbled. " _When_ you want. Now scooch over some. I need a cuddle."

If it had come from anyone else, Jason would have been all like 'naw, fool, I ain't going to cuddle with you,' but it was coming from _Richard Grayson,_ who could probably break every bone in his body, and who was letting him stay him, and was his older brother. And, yeah, okay, maybe he'd wanted a hug.

Besides, who else could say that they'd been spooned platonically by Nightwing?

* * *

"You ready?"

Jason nodded.

"Okay. Fire!"

He squeezed down on the trigger as hard as he could, but he still can't make himself watch.

"Nice," Dick chuckled, and Jason finally cracked an eye open. The soda can has a bullet hole straight through the center, and it's crumpled in on itself. "You _sure_ this was your first shot?"

"Yeah! Can I try again?"

Dick gave him a look. "Kid. The whole point of me driving you out to an obscure location with a soda can and this," he gestured to the gun, "was to get you to chill out about the whole 'incident'."

.

 _Two-Face had smirked, holding up a gun and a single bullet._

 _"We're going to play a game, boys," he'd said, loading it in. "Russian Roulette, a personal favorite of mine."_

 _Jason had twisted his head around to look at Nightwing, who was bleeding from the mouth. The older boy reached though the jungle of handcuffs and ropes to grab his hand, squeezing it weakly._

 _The gun made a clicking sound. "Who's first_?"

.

Predictably, Jason had gotten freaked out by the incident, especially since there were only six chambers, and Dick had taken the even numbers. The bullet had yet to go off after the fifth barrel when Batman had surged in, taking down the villain. Afterwards, he'd been a little. . . clingier than usual.

Nightwing had almost _died_.

So Dick has taken him to a secluded area, with the - still loaded - gun and a soda. Nine sips and one gunshot later. . .

"There," the older boy said, breaking him out of his thoughts as he examined the can. "That bullet won't kill anyone, _ever_."

"Who taught _you_ how to shoot?" His brother (he'd never get tired of that title) had told him all the basics, so he obviously knew.

Dick's smirk tightened. "Why? Jealous?"

"No! But seriously, no one gets that good without a teacher."

"Slade Wilson," Dick shrugged casually, like it wasn't a big deal, which usually meant it _was_ a big deal, but he'd never heard of 'Slade Wilson', so maybe it really wasn't?

"C'mon, replacement," he slung a tense arm around Jason's shoulders. "I don't want to corrupt you _any_ further. God knows the last thing Gotham needs is another crazy running around shooting people."

"I'm not crazy!" Jason protested, purposely bumping into him.

"Sure, kid. Maybe you can inform me more about how entirely sane you are on patrol, while you're dressed up in red, green and yellow spandex with a man who looks like a giant bat."

Jason scoffed. "Look who's talking!"

"...Touché."

* * *

requests welcome! Also, pretty please with dick and Jason on top...review? You know you want to. It's right there. So close...REVIEW


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